


See Myself Through Your Eyes

by DJ_Stridenasty



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Despair, also leon takes pills if youre not comfy with that, and he has mommy issues, and makoto just wants to see leon happy, and makotos australian, its really gay i love these two theres not enough content for them, leons an anxious dumbass, not like in a suicidal way he just takes anxiety and adhd meds, or pre-despair, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 03:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18295790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJ_Stridenasty/pseuds/DJ_Stridenasty
Summary: In which Leon Kuwata attempts to suppress all his emotions and fails, and gains a boyfriend out of the ordeal.Alternatively, in which Leon's fucking gay for his best friend.Edit: Fixed the formatting. Easier to read. uwu





	See Myself Through Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to ash for egging on my naeleon bullshit. the naeleon tag is pretty dead so *grabs my defibrillator* time to actually finish my bullshit for once. a nice big middle finger to ao3 for not registering the spaces in front of paragraphs

Blue eyes stared back at the man through the reflective surface. Blue eyes that, maybe to anyone else, would have been handsome or mischievous, gleaming with the next line that played on his lips. To their owner, however, they were anything but. To their owner, all they were, were just another pair of eyes to see his imperfections, to flit back and forth with another flare of anxiety at everything that went slightly wrong. All the did was make the owner ever more aware to every flaw he held, every problem that he caused. They flicked down to the tanned hands that held the pill bottle as one flicked a few pills into the other waiting hand.

It wouldn’t be a good day, the man knew right off the bat. Trouble swam in his light eyes like fish in crowded lakes. It was the birth date of his mother. Maybe that would be a spark for anxiously finding a present or writing empty words on a store bought card rather than attending any of his classes, but it’s not like he had ever been close with his mother. Rather the opposite, trouble gnawed at his stomach because of how distant he had been with his mother, no matter how much she might have deserved it for her actions against the innocent boy that he had once been, the words that had spilled from her lips and seeded deep in his mind, the habits that had caused him to grow distant and curl into himself whenever casually mentioned. He knew she would guilt trip him into getting her a present she didn’t deserve, or mention it to his father until he yelled at him to get her something, if only to shut her up.

Routinely, Leon Kuwata’s freckled hand brought the pills up to the waiting mouth while the other set the pill bottle down to take ahold of the paper cup, washing down the pills with a mouthful of water. He swallowed down the ADHD and anxiety pills thickly, before setting the empty cup down and attempting to flash a confident grin in the mirror. When that failed, he gelled up his hands and ran them through his hair, using the blow dryer to meticulously style his hair into it’s every day, pushed back, spiky style. Once his hair was styled, and liquid eyeliner lined his eyes, he gave the mirror another grin, this time accompanied by two finger guns. When he was sure that nobody would think something was wrong with him, he left the bathroom to finish getting ready, pulling on his coat and flipping on the collar, slipping in every earring, pulling on every necklace and ring. When his morning routine came to a close, he posed in the mirror until he had every movement down, and left his dorm.

When he pushed open the doors to the cafeteria, his icy eyes flicked over every person until they landed on a mop of messy, unkempt brown hair that belonged to none other than Makoto Naegi. Wearing his usual grin, he strode over to the empty seat next to him and sat heavily in it, kicking his feet up to rest on the table. “Hey, Naegs.”

The mousy boy looked up, and his lips turned in a warm smile. “Hello, Kuwata-kun!” The two had been friends for a couple of months at this point, and at some point, Leon had began to feel a light, airy feeling in his stomach every time he saw that sweet smile, and this time was no different. The moment his surname fell from his lips, he felt his heart swell with air, and tapped his fingers against the table to attempt to rid his heart of it’s skips. 

“What’s up, man?” He pointedly avoided meeting Naegi’s washed out hazel eyes, knowing those eyes that shone with positivity could easily pick apart the trouble that hid behind his own. Leon reached forward and stole a piece of bacon from the lucky student’s plate to distract himself, of which no objection came about from.

“Nothing of interest, really. Just getting my day started, you know?” His sight trailed down to the smaller man’s shoulders as he shrugged his shoulders under his olive hoodie. Leon didn’t know why there was something that looked so soft about them, like they would be a good place to rest his head as he wept or slept. 

“Shit man, same.” He felt himself shrug back as he ripped off another bite of bacon, stealing another strip before leaning back enough to lean his seat back on two legs. 

“Do you want me to get you some breakfast?” Naegi cocked his head, amused by the food thief, to which Leon laughed softly.

“Nah man, it’s always better when it belongs to someone else, like fries or drinks.”

“Right,” the brunette nodded. “How could I have been so dumb?” He grinned, eyes shining. Leon grinned and leaned forward, draping his arm over the lucky student’s shoulders. He figured that was a good way to avoid making eye contact without seeming suspicious.

“You’re not dumb, dude. Just a little… not caught up.” At the pout he received in response, he laughed. “Just kidding. But nah, thanks for letting me steal some food off your plate. I’m not really that hungry, so that was enough to fill me up.”

At this, Naegi felt his smile falter. Hearing Leon saying he wasn’t hungry was, to say the least, odd. He was pretty much an endless food vacuum, and with Hina, could eat half the kitchen’s large stock in a day. Brushing it off, though, he gave the punk a thumbs up. “Whatever you say!”

 

Outwardly, the day passed pretty normally. The all star attended the classes that interested him and skipped the rest, much to the disdain of the resident moral compass in the school. At all costs he avoided eye contact with others, especially the washed out hazel eyes that regarded him with growing concern as the day progressed. When the school day came to a close with a bell to top it off, Leon debated internally between going outside to distract himself or going to his dorm to blow off his homework and take a long depression nap. His foot tapped with anxiety, knowing his mom would probably attempt to call him later on in the day, a conversation that was always forced and riddled with guilt tripping. All of his thoughts for plans disappeared with a jump when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he turned to regard the owner. He was met with the same olive eyes he had been avoiding all day. 

“Shit, hey Naegs.”

“Kuwata-kun,” Naegi responded, worry lacing his voice and dragging it down from it’s usual upward lift. The punk felt his heart stop at the worry. Even Leon, who was the worst at picking up tones in other’s voices, could hear how the worry dripped from his voice. There was lots of things he hated, like hot weather and being rejected. He could bear with those, however. Making other people worry, however, he hated with a passion, and it wasn’t something he could just push through, because he had internalized his fear of worrying others so deeply he’d need an earthquake and an archaeological team to dig it out. He looked away, gritting his teeth as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“What do you need, man? I’m very busy,” he unintentionally growled, ducking away from the small boy’s grip. But Naegi held his gaze unwaveringly, not flinching at the unfriendly tone. 

“I want to know what’s wrong. Or, if you can’t tell me, I want to make sure you end up okay. Cause I know you’re not right now.” He went to give the boy a hostile look, knowing that he could apologize for it tomorrow and Naegi would forgive him like nothing. But the determined, yet caring look in his olive eyes made Leon’s heart melt. 

“...okay. Fine, Naegs. You got me.” He perked up, and smiled. Leon looked away, then motioned for the brunette to follow him as he made his way back to his own dorm. The lucky student followed him like a loyal, curious little puppy. The thought of a Naegi-puppy made the all star smile weakly to himself. He’d probably be a little Australian shepard, since he was Australian and all. He found his way to his door and unlocked the door, heading inside. Making sure Naegi had gotten in, he closed the door, and released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding before meeting the eyes that held so much care for him. Why? Why did he care so much about Leon? All Leon was, was a womanizing, pathetic, wanna-be rockstar who couldn’t even be thankful for what he had-- he didn’t realize he was shaking until soft hands took his own and led him to the bed, sitting him down.

“Kuwata-kun,” the short boy’s warm voice murmured softly. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m here, okay?” 

Leon felt his eyes prick with tears as everything that was wrong began spilling out of his mouth before he could stop it. By the time he was done spilling his emotional guts, he was sure that Naegi would be scared away, revolted by how shallow and pathetic the baseball player was, judging him for being so worked up by small things in life. So what, his mother wasn’t the best? She never laid an unjust hand on him, and all of her insults were true. So what he had grown up poor, and was terrified that now he was making money, everyone close to him just wanted to use him for his cash? Maybe he was disgusted by himself in the mirror until he put on his mask, perfected his facade, because he couldn’t stand the anxious look in his eyes or the freckles that littered his face or the fact that he could never meet his own expectations. 

But when he looked up, rather than being met with hostile disgust, he felt Naegi rest his soft hand onto Leon’s cheek and tenderly brush away the tears that had began to roll down his cheeks. “Leon--” And just like that, before he could get another word out, Leon collapsed against him, burying his face in his chest before beginning to sob hard, letting all the tears that he had been holding in for so long out. He had said his name-- his first name, he never used his first name-- so warmly, so caringly, so… so lovingly. The small boy wraps his arms around his torso, pulling him close and stroking his hair, and that only makes Leon cry harder. No one was ever this sweet with him. All the flings, all the girls he kept on his arm for a day before moving onto the next, were only there for his money. They turned away every time he dared hint to not being emotionally sound. But here Makoto-- Makoto, yeah, that sounded right. Not ‘Naegs’, not ‘Naegi’, Makoto-- was, tenderly holding him and whispering reassuring words into Leon’s ear, rocking him back and forth. 

He cried into Makoto’s chest until he couldn’t cry any longer, until all he could do was hiccup out thanks. With every touch, soft hands worked out more and more of the ginger’s anxiety, until he could bring himself to pull away slowly. Before he could wipe away the tear tracks stained to his cheeks, Makoto reached up, brushing his thumb over Leon’s cheek. A warm smile that reached his washed out eyes drew Leon in even more. 

“Leon,” the name fell from his mouth so softly, so warmly, “it’s okay. I’m here, okay? Thank you so much for telling me all of that.” Thank you? Thank you? Leon was taken aback. Why was Makoto thanking him? “None of what you said about yourself was true. You’re not disgusting, and nothing about you is ugly or revolting. Your anxiety is nothing to just brush off, and you shouldn’t treat it as such. I think everything about you is great, no matter what your mom says. You’re more than just your money, or your disorders. Leon, you’re my best friend, and I know how bullshit it is that you think you’re not worth everything that you have. You deserve even better. That was so brave of you, and I’m so thankful that you let me be there for you. And… I’ll always be here for you, okay?” 

Leon couldn’t help it. When Makoto made that promise, it was like he switched into automatic mode, that he was no longer in complete control of his body. His hands reached up to grip Makoto’s as they pulled away from his face, and yanked them towards the baseball player, pressing his lips deeply against Makoto’s. He couldn’t believe his own actions, but he couldn’t stop them, either. Kuwata would swear up and down that he was straight, but as soon as his lips met Makoto’s, god damn he knew he was wrong. He quickly pulled away, and saw Makoto’s eyes wide with disbelief, and face flushed deeply. 

“God, I’m so sorry, here you were trying to console me and I can’t even say anything in response I can’t even thank you I didn’t even ask if I could kiss you I’m such a m-mmph!” His frantic rambling was cut off by Makoto’s soft lips against his own chapped ones again. He wanted to wonder what kind of chapstick he used, so that he could buy some, but then realized it didn’t matter if he could just steal it off Makoto’s lips. God, why was he thinking about chapstick right now? He kissed the small boy back slowly, letting go of his wrists. Deepening the kiss, he rested his calloused hands on the brunette’s soft cheeks, a gesture which was responded by the other’s small hands resting on his shoulders. As Makoto pulled back to catch his breath, Leon met his eyes.

Once, Leon couldn’t handle to see himself in the mirror. Every time he met his own blue eyes, he would nitpick apart everything about himself. Blue eyes that, once to himself, were just another pair of eyes to see his imperfections, to flit back and forth with flares of anxiety at everything that did wrong, to make himself aware to every flaw and problem. 

But in olive eyes that reflected Leon’s smile, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. That maybe he wasn’t the problem, but just how he saw himself through his own eyes. And as he relaxed his forehead against his boyfriends, he realized that all he needed wasn’t to stop looking at himself through his own eyes, but to see himself through Makoto’s.


End file.
